


Atticus

by Spoonzi



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aged up characters, Alternate Universe, Awkward Derek Hale, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Poetry, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is Noah, Sterek Week 2019, Stereklyrics5, Stiles Smokes, Tattooed Stiles Stilinski, no beta we die like men, quotes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 04:24:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21191525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoonzi/pseuds/Spoonzi
Summary: “Derek likes to think that all of the truths that Atticus wrote are true of Stiles Stilinski.”





	Atticus

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Sterek Week Day 2 on the Lyrics & Quotes Prompt.

Derek has a lot of books and if you don’t look too close you could assume they are all bestiaries, boring novels, historical texts, and books so old the titles have faded off. This is because he keeps his favorite books in his room tucked safely into the drawers under his bed and the shelves behind his clothes. Books filled with fiction, lore, love, loss, and poetry. 

There are three books in the bottom drawer of his nightstand. They are books filled with the poetry Atticus. Poetry speaking of magic and love and something wistful and beautiful that you can’t quite reach. Derek likes to think that all of the truths that Atticus wrote are true of Stiles Stilinski. 

***

_ She wasn’t waiting _

_ for a knight.  _

_ She was waiting _

_ for a sword.  _

_ —Atticus _

With no doubts in his mind Derek fully believes that Stiles is the most dangerous one of them all, and that was before he finished college and came back to Beacon Hills. He was dangerous when he was a skinny, lanky, clumsy disaster of a human being. When his bark was much scarier than his bite, all harsh threats that Derek was sure he’d go through on and false bravado. 

After two years at Caltech— coming back to visit his father and the pack on the holidays and always missing Derek somehow— Stiles Stilinski is even more dangerous than before. He's all runic tattoos and sarcastic swagger, sure of himself now that he’d grown into his broad shoulders and large, long-fingered hands. 

Derek doesn’t remember how dangerous he is until he’s on a mad search for the spark after they’ve all been split up. He hears one of the hags screech from one of the machinery rooms of the factory and he banks left sprinting for the room. He comes crashing through the door in time to see Stiles slam the pointed end of a rusted and crusted pipe into the hag’s throat pig Latin spilling from his mouth in a growling timber. 

His face and his arms are splattered with black goop-like blood and he’s covered in ash and the smell of embers. Stiles grunts and picks one leg up to slam his heavy boot into the dead hag’s sternum sending her flopping to the floor over another body. With a huff, the younger man leans on the pipe and makes an intricate one handed motion. One of the runes peaking out from his shirt collar and his eyes glow an orange-gold briefly before the hags’ prone forms are catching up in flame. 

“You come just to stare at me, big guy? Or am I needed for damage control?” Stiles questions not looking away from the flames until they sizzle out leaving nothing but mounds of deep black ash. He kneels next to the ash producing a jar from a pouch on his belt that it shouldn’t logically be able to fit in and the ash flows into it after its uncapped. 

Derek grunts because he really doesn’t know how to respond to that and he knows that Stiles has always been able to derive conversation from his lackluster input. Just like he thought the younger man nods as if he understands and slips the jar back into the pouch before standing. “Damage control it is. Let’s go make sure Scott and Isaac haven’t gotten themselves killed. I doubt we have to worry about Erica since Boyd is with her.”

***

_ A sky _

_ full  _

_ of stars, _

_ and he  _

_ was staring _

_ at her.  _

_ —Atticus _

_ Chase your  _

_ stars, fool.  _

_ Life is short.  _

_ —Atticus  _

It’s hard to keep his eyes off of Stiles when he sees him now. Their base of operations switches wildly between Scott and Isaac’s apartment and his own and no matter the location the spark can find a place where he looks like a renaissance painting. If Derek were more of a talker or a larger participant in the usual discussions then he’d have been called out for getting distracted by Stiles at least three dozen times. 

It’s pack dinner night so for once they aren’t in his loft— where the younger man lounges in the windows with the golden rays of late noon sun or silver streams of moon slashing over his skin like a tattoo of light— or at Scott and Isaac’ place— where he stretches across pieces of furniture that aren’t couches or chairs showing off the length of his lean body and the flexibility it holds. Instead they are gathered at Melissa and Noah’s new house spread around the small backyard under the light of tiki torches and white fairy lights. 

Noah is manning the grill where he’s got a healthy array of burgers, veggie burgers, baked potatoes, and bacon wrapped asparagus as he jokes with Melissa who lets him drink from her beer when he’s not flipping or turning the food. Scott and Erica have been engaged in a full on war of a game of Bullshit at the picnic table for the last hour yelling at each other with everything other card as their significant others look on in mirth at their antics. 

It being summer, Lydia is home for MIT and she’s cuddled up in the rope hammock with Jackson who looks apathetic but Derek can smell his contentment from his own place leaned against the house with a beer in hand. Danny, who had ended up in the pack by association and circumstance, is lounging on a beach chair and frankly the wolf is pretty sure he’s asleep. Peter has been periodically looking up from his laptop at the Hawaiian boy with a look that Derek really doesn’t care to unpack right now or ever. 

Other than a general knowledge of where everyone is and what they’re doing, Derek really hasn’t taken his eyes off of Stiles since he’d gotten there. The younger man is lain back with his feet dipped into the deep end of the pool and his arms crossed behind his head showing off the definition on his biceps. He’s wearing a pair of black swim trunks and a shirt that really just looks like a piece of cloth he slapped over his torso considering it seems like it used to have sleeves but now it just looks like the entire sides have been cut off bar a piece at the bottom holding the front to the back. It shows off the tan, tattooed skin his arms and the sides of his torso nicely and in this light it seems like the runic etchings on his skin are moving and swirling like shadows. 

“I recognize that look.” Noah states calmly from next to Derek and the wolf feels like he should be embarrassed that he didn’t hear the older man’s approach. A cursory glance at the grill informs him that Melissa is stacking burgers on two different trays and leaving the veggies to cook for a little longer. 

Swallowing down some of his beer, that he’s really got just to have something to drink in his hand, he eyes the Sheriff warily. “What look?”

The man snorts and takes a drink out of his own beer, which is actually Melissa’s beer, before nodding his head towards his son. “You know what look.”

The dark haired male chooses to stay silent his eyes wavering back to the young adult. As it turns out Noah Stilinski is just about as good at making conversation as his son. “That’s the look I used to give Claudia. You want some advice kid?”

“Not particularly.” Derek says on instinct and regrets it immediately hoping he hadn’t fucked up royally as he tries to think of what to say to fix his royal fuck up. 

Noah chuckles and claps a hand down on the wolf’s shoulder. “I’m going to give you some anyway. Go for it. People like Claudia and Stiles are hard to come by.”

Derek blinks and he feels his brows bunch together of their own volition. “Are you…. did you just give me your blessing?”

“You’re damn right.” The older man buffs squealing his shoulder. “Now come on before you get stuck with a veggie burger.”

***

_ We are never alone  _

_ We are all wolves  _

_ Howling to the same moon. _

_ —Atticus  _

Stiles stays behind often at pack meets no matter the location. Derek isn’t sure why but he figures that the younger man is gathering his thoughts or waiting for everyone else to get out of the car lot or some other such nonsense. Today is no different. Today’s had been an impromptu meeting after taking care of a wayward swarm of chupacabras that had wandered in from Mexico and decided to feast on people’s outdoor pets with no goats around. Everyone is tired from trying to wrangle the beasts at Scott’s dictation so seeing Stiles lag behind isn’t really a surprise. 

What is a surprise is the way Stiles juts open his window and climbs out onto the fire escape once Scott shuts the door of the loft behind him. Derek follows the younger man out onto the metal scaffolding to find him reaching into one of the smaller pouches on his belt. The brunet slips a long cigarette between his lips and imitates the hand motion Derek had seen him use just weeks ago on the hags and the end of the cancer stick flakes along with his eyes and tattoo. He leans forward against the railing and his cheeks hollow out as he takes a pull off of the dart. “You just come out here to stand and stare at me?”

Derek, though not knowing how to respond because yes he was absolutely coming to stare at him, figures a grunt or a glare isn’t going to be enough this time. “Those things kill you know.”

Stiles huffs out a laugh white smoke breaking from between his lips in a swath that dispels into the warm night air. “You gonna tattle on me?”

“I could be persuaded not to,” The wolf starts feeling bold in his exhaustion, “if you were to share.”

Stiles deftly pulls another tobacco stick from the belt pouch and holds it out. His hands have paper thin scars amongst the scratches he’d garnered with this week’s beast and the green eyed man has to try not to think about the way their fingers brush over each other as he takes the cigarette. Pressing it between his lips under the assumption that the younger man will light his like he’d done his own, Derek’s eyes go wide when the brunet leans down to press the ends of their dugans together to transfer the flame. 

He wonders idly when the spark got so tall that he had to tilt his head down to look at the wolf but that thought is only passing. In the light of the moon and the glow from their stoffers the other male’s eyes look like cinnamon whisky and amber drops and his ribs hurt a little from lack of air. When Stiles pulls back he remembers to breathe and he barely keeps himself from coughing when his lungs are flooded with gaseous cancer. 

The both of them lean forward and rest their arms on the railing of the fire escape. The brown eyed boy tilts his head back showing the long expanse of his throat ragged with moles and tattoos like graffiti as he stares up at the sky. Stiles flicks his cig with his tongue and a mound of ash falls below them disappearing into the darkness. “It’s a beautiful thing to be at the will of.”

The comment is lost on Derek until he comes to the realization that the other man is gazing at the half orb that is the moon. Once again he feels it’s better to say nothing at all. Instead he focuses on the moon, and more importantly, how it’s light makes Stiles’ eyes look like stained glass and glow like a beta’s. Not for the first time, the older man thinks that the spark would have made an amazing wolf. 

***

_ Life is a _

_ journey _

_ to find  _

_ the people  _

_ weird _

_ like you.  _

_ —Atticus  _

Derek has been to Stiles’ apartment all of two times since the younger man had moved back to Beacon Hills. The first time was when he and Scott had helped move the furniture in and the second was two days later when Stiles hosted a housewarming party at Lydia’s demand. Climbing the fire escape with ease, he strokes a hand over a stray cat as he jogs up the metal stairs to the fourth floor. The window is unlocked and as he slips through almost jumping when Stiles’ voice sounds from across the bedroom. “You know I thought that when I moved in here you guys would start using my door.”

“Would you have answered if I came to the door?” Derek questions surveying the boxes of cereal and the cans of monster stacked on the desk. 

“Probably not.” The younger man shrugs fingers flying at lightning speed over the keyboard. Strings of numbers and letters dance across the screen just as fast and the wolf doesn’t know what to make of it. 

“I was sent to get you out of the house for a little bit.” The green eyed man reports not really understanding  _ why _ he was the one chosen for this job instead of Lydia or Scott. 

“No thanks. I need to finish this.” Stiles waves his hand in a  _ shoo _ hand motion not looking away from the screen where the black, white, and green draws over his eyes like watercolor. 

“You haven’t left in four days and I bet you haven’t eaten anything other than dry cereal and energy drinks in just as long.” Derek huffs. “Let me take you to dinner. Then I’ll let you come back and do whatever this is and make sure no one bothers you outside of emergency.”

“I’m building a website, Derek. That’s my job. The company I work for is a coding company.” The spark says calmly as he jams his pinkie down on the enter button and starts a new line before leaning back. “You’re buying.”

“Absolutely, I’ll take you to that diner you like.” The wolf says jangling his keys. 

Stiles makes a face. “We’re taking my Jeep. My legs can’t fit in your car.”

Derek poses no argument as they walk down to the lot because really Stiles is kind of right. His legs are too long to sit in the camaro comfortably even with the seat scooted back. Besides, he likes watching Stiles unfold from Roscoe like a giraffe all long limbs and oddly graceful, barely contained clumsiness. 

The diner is just as it always is in the sense that there is one old guy at the counter drinking coffee and a middle aged couple near the window eating a late dinner. Stiles chooses their seat by sliding into a booth where he can sit with his back against the wall. Derek slides in across from him and a teenager slaps down a set of menus in front of them smiling through over glossed lips. “What can I get you guys to drink?”

“I’ll have a chocolate milkshake and he’ll have lemonade.” Stiles answers for the both of them as he pushes the menus toward Derek. “I want the waffles also, please.”

Derek holds out the menus to her. “I’ll have the daily special.”

“God I wish everyone was as quick to decide as you two. I’ll be right back with those drinks.” The Girl, Dana according to her name tag, scrawls down their orders and accepts the menus before making her way back behind the counter. 

The wolf looks back to Stiles to find him with his head leaned back against the wall and his eyes closed. His throat is bared towards Derek and the neck of his shirt is cut lower than the ones he usually wears showing the top of a word under his collarbone. 

“What’s that say?” Derek questions without thinking as he points towards the tattoo. 

“ _ Love her but leave her wild.  _ It’s by Atticus. I read it somewhere and it reminded me of my mom so I got it over my heart.” Stiles explains and the wolf falls for him a little more if that’s even possible. 

They both thank Dana when she drops of their drinks and silverware bundles. Stiles takes a long drink of his shake before looking over at Derek. “So you pulled the short straw huh?”

Derek doesn’t know how to respond so he grunts in what he hopes is a questioning tone. It causes the spark to snort so he guesses it’s understood what he meant as the brunet speaks again. “When I came back during the holidays I always had assignments and I’d get sucked into them. My dad and Scott used to make Isaac, Melissa, and sometimes even Danny or Jackson to pull me out.”

The wolf shrugs. “Lydia asked me to. You kind of just do things when she asks you to.”

Laughing quietly, Stiles twists the top of his straw between his fingers before bringing it up to his mouth and taking a small sip. “I get that. She can be downright scary for being so small and nonthreatening.”

They both go quiet as their plates are sat down in front of them. They spend a few minutes just eating. Derek cutting up his hamburger steak and mixing it into his mashed potatoes and gravy while Stiles drenches his waffles in syrup. After a minute the younger man holds out his fork pointing it at Derek as he chews. 

Logically the wolf knows that the tattooed man is going to say something to add onto their conversation after he finishes chewing. Illogically the raven haired man holds up his own fork and slips the rings of it into the spaces in the other fork. Stiles raises his brows and smirks swallowing his bite of waffle. “I always knew you were more into forking than spooning.”

Derek can feel his ears turning red as he pulls his fork back and spoons up some of his mixed together dinner. “Shut up, Stiles.”

“Nah. Anyway, I was gonna say. You know who can also be pretty scary for not being scary looking at all?” The spark drops his own fork to stark cutting a square off of his waffle. “Melissa and Scott. Both of them just remind me of puppies so when they get angry, it's kind of like getting whiplash.”

Derek grunts out his agreement keeping his face turned down towards his plate for the rest of their meal. His ears burn for a good few minutes before he isn’t embarrassed anymore and he listens to Stiles blabber about one time when Stiles and Scott had pranked Melissa. Apparently that would  _ never ever  _ happen again. He nods and hums along to show he’s listening even though he doubts he needs too and by the time Stiles is done telling him about how long it took her to get the paint off of the floor they’re both done with their food. 

Dana comes over again slipping the check onto the table as she collects their plates leaving their half full drinks and a comment. “You guys are really cute together.”

Derek looks up so fast he gets slightly dizzy and he has no time to deny that they’re together before Stiles is speaking up. “Thanks, I know!”

The wolf is so distracted trying to figure out why the hell Stiles said that that he can barely get his credit card out by the time Dana comes back for it. “Why did you say that?” Derek hisses when she walks away once again to put his payment through. 

“With the way you’ve been looking at me since I came home last month I figured this was a date.” The spark shrugged before sucking down the rest of his milkshake and raising one brow. “I thought it was going pretty well.”

“I- we- I- okay.” The wolf stutters as Dana drops off his card and escapes with their glasses. 

“Okay?” The brunet smiles whisky colored eyes glimmering in barely contained amusement as they slip out of the diner. He turns his head down to brush a kiss over Derek’s lips. He tastes like syrup, smells like smoke, and magic crackles under his skin. Frankly, it’s intoxicating. 

“Definitely okay.” Derek responds when the younger man pulls back. Stiles chuckles and slips a hand into the pocket of his jeans coming back with a box of Pall*Mall Reds. 

_ It was never the way she looked _

_ always the way she was _

_ I would have fallen in love with her  _

_ with my eyes closed. _

_ —Atticus  _

**Author's Note:**

> Teen Wolf (c) Jeff Davis


End file.
